Woman's Intuition
by Gracielinn
Summary: Honestly, she didn't even know why she bothered to text him at all, considering there hadn't been a single response from him to any of her texts in over two months... Jessica POV one shot, no spoilers, slightly AU after the events of episode 5.


Woman's Intuition

Honestly, she didn't even know why she bothered to text him at all, considering there hadn't been a single response from him to any of her texts in over two months. Maybe it was the disheartening fact that she'd picked up the divorce papers this morning before coming to work. After signing her name in front of the bored-looking attorney, she hadn't even looked inside the large, official-looking envelope–just stuffed it in her bag.

And although she had opened her own bank account weeks ago as a way of planning for the future, she felt only the slightest pang of guilt for paying the vaguely snobby receptionist out of their joint checking account, the one the U.S. Army still faithfully deposited his pay into each month. Sure she was the one who had filed to end their marriage, but it gave her just the tiniest hint of satisfaction to make him pay the bill.

Obviously, he was off somewhere on some super-secret, hush-hush, life or death mission, and by the time he even looked at the checkbook, the whole miserable process would be over and done with. Truthfully, she hadn't the faintest idea if he was even stateside–he could literally be anywhere in the world right now. Sitting in the parking lot of the bar she worked at, Jessica Logan sighed wearily and wondered when it had all gone to hell. Unwillingly, her mind drifted back ten years to the first time she met her (soon to be ex) husband...

 _Flashback (_ July 2008)

It was just another balmy summer evening in San Diego, and currently stuffed into a booth with four of her friends at a 'cowboy' bar they frequented, Jessica Andrews was bored silly. Idly sipping her second margarita in the last hour, her eyes darted impatiently around the noisy, packed room looking for anyone or anything that might be the slightest bit more interesting than sitting here listening to her girlfriends bitch and moan about men–apparently the lone topic of conversation tonight.

She loved her girls, she truly did, but everything in their cramped (to her mind) world revolved around finding, snagging, keeping, or usually, getting rid of, a guy. Jessica herself had been single for a few months now, and the less than subtle looks of pity from the others was starting to piss her off. For God's sake, she was only 23 years old, and they were acting like she was a loser or something.

Just then, she spotted a rowdy table full of hot guys in the back corner and smiled happily. Oh, yes, this was promising. Sharpening her gaze, she counted a good half dozen–and not a dud in the bunch. As a native of the city, she decided that, judging by their almost identical short haircuts, these boys were definitely 'Pendleton princes,' the nickname she and her friends had (not always fondly) bestowed on the servicemen from the sprawling base about twenty miles away.

Jessica had once dated a guy in the military, and he'd treated her very well, but she just couldn't see herself as an Army wife. Too lonely, for starters. Tonight, however, any one of these good-looking men could easily be the cure for her restlessness. Nudging her best friend, Trina, she murmured in her ear, "Six pack, back corner, be cool," and was pleased when her friend was still sober enough to be somewhat discreet.

"Oh, hell, yeah," Trina whispered back, her green eyes widening, before reaching in her bag for lip gloss. Jessica followed suit before pausing long enough to finger fluff her long blonde hair. Telling the others they'd be right back (doubtful), Trina grabbed Jessica's arm and the two women casually made their way over to the intended targets.

As usual, her friend led the way, and sashayed right up to the table, tossing her thick red curls as she greeted the men in a husky, inviting voice. Friends with Trina since middle school, Jessica was always alternately torn between admiration and envy at her natural confidence. The six men rose respectfully as one in response, and within seconds, welcomed the women to sit with them.

After finding a couple more chairs and putting them around the table, the men made room, and Jessica found herself wedged in between two of them: a tall, thin, sandy-haired guy who introduced himself as Dave, and his friend, Wyatt, who was a couple inches shorter, with dark hair and amazing blue eyes. Once introductions were dispensed with, Dave offered to get the next round, and he and another guy, Zack, headed for the bar, leaving Jessica sitting with Wyatt while Trina was more than happy to flirt with the other three.

Jessica didn't mind, though, because up close, this soldier was gorgeous. Oddly enough, he was pretty quiet compared to his buddies, so she did her best to keep the conversation going. By the time Dave and Zack returned with the drinks, Wyatt had opened up a little, enough that she learned he was a year older than her, originally from Texas (she thought his faint twang was _so_ sexy), and he and the others were here celebrating, having just been recruited into the Delta Force special mission unit at Pendleton.

In spite of herself, Jessica was quite impressed. She'd heard of Delta Force, the most elite squads in the military. This guy must be pretty special. Well, in addition to his looks, he certainly was a good listener, gazing at her intently when she rattled off her tedious life history: born, raised, lived her whole life in San Diego; went to community college for a year before deciding she wasn't a fan of higher education; worked at Joe's Crab Shack four night a week.

Pretty dull stuff, but from the expression on Wyatt's face, he clearly didn't agree. And Jessica found that sweet and very appealing. Impulsively, she asked him to dance, and to her delight, he blushed and shook his head, "Sorry, Ma'am, I'm not a very good dancer," with an embarrassed shrug and a shy grin. _Good lord, was that a dimple in his cheek?_

Just then, the live band began playing a slow ballad, and taking his warm hand firmly in hers, Jessica tugged him out of his chair and over to the small area in front of the band that served as a dance floor. "C'mon, cowboy, all we have to do is hold on to each other and sway. No dance experience necessary, okay?" and she grinned when he nodded reluctantly.

It was adorable how respectfully he held her, but not exactly what she had in mind, so although Wyatt was slightly resistant at first, gradually he relaxed when Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his muscular chest. (One thing you could say about the Pendleton princes, they were _always_ in great shape.)

She was not prepared for the strong physical reaction her body had to his. Her senses reeling, Jessica closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his, clean-shaven but starting to sport a decent five o'clock shadow. To this day, she had no clue what song they danced to or if any of her friends were even on the dance floor. Hell, for a few blissful minutes, Jessica wasn't even sure where _she_ was. Her whole world had narrowed to being held in this man's strong arms.

With amazing accuracy, Jessica could recall years later what he was wearing (jeans, white tee, plaid flannel shirt, boots), how good he smelled (not like cologne, just his own scent), and last, but definitely not least, the way he made her feel, like she was the only woman on the whole planet...

 _End Flashback_

After that first night, things between them moved at a breathtaking pace. Daily phone calls, spending nearly every weekend together ( _who's a loser now, girlfriends?_ ), and less than six months later, a quick visit to the Pendleton chapel and a base chaplain was pronouncing them man and wife. Jessica had been so insanely, head over heels happy being married to Wyatt Logan in the beginning. She loved him so much and had settled into being an Army wife surprisingly well, at least until his first deployment overseas, six short months after they married.

During their year apart, Jessica thought she might lose her mind from missing her husband. At first, she sucked it up, tried to be brave and self-sufficient, and not burden Wyatt with her feelings during their weekly phone calls. Consoling herself that he missed her just as badly, she worked hard and somehow endured their separation. Twelve endless months later, her husband came home safely, thank God, and Jessica threw herself into rediscovering Wyatt and their relationship.

And so the pattern for their married life was set, and each time he left and came back, things between them deteriorated a little more. Each mission seemed to take a worse toll on Wyatt, and the time it took for him to 'bounce back' was longer. Until the Syrian mission. The sullen, hollow-eyed soldier who returned to Pendleton, the sole survivor of an operation gone horribly wrong, seriously worried Jessica.

Who was this man who looked right through her? She'd never felt more inadequate as a wife, frightened that while Wyatt was physically fine, mentally, emotionally, this guy was a complete stranger. He looked and sounded like her husband, but there was a flat, impenetrable look in his dull blue eyes now that disturbed Jessica. It was more obvious than ever that a little bit less of 'her' Wyatt came back from each deployment.

Wyatt regularly attended mandatory counseling at the base twice a week, but from the amount of alcohol he threw back every night, the therapy was doing him little to no good. He was just so remote, so frustratingly closed off to her, it was like living with someone she'd never met before. Her hope, her desire to fix Wyatt crumbled under the oppressive weight of his hopelessness. Jessica, never a patient woman to begin with, in an effort to spark some kind (any kind) of response from him, began to pick fights, deliberately jabbing at him. Just thinking about what a bitch she'd been made her cringe.

To her regret, during one particularly vicious argument, she had pleaded with him to leave the service. The look of contempt on his face chilled her to the core. Later, after he cooled off and they were lying in bed (not touching), Wyatt had tiredly asked, "What do you want me to do, Jess? This is all I know," and her heart ached at the futility in his voice. She never brought up the subject again. Sitting here in 2018 with divorce papers in her hand, Jessica wasn't sure why it had taken so long to officially end their marriage. The pain inherent with a divorce surely couldn't be any worse than the long, sad years they'd hung on to each other.

Swallowing her despair, she gathered her things and went inside to start her shift. Another double. But what did it matter when she had nothing to go home to but an empty, lonely apartment? With two girls calling in sick, Jessica was busy as hell during the lunch rush, so naturally, that's when her husband shows up, big as day, after avoiding her for weeks now. What the hell, Wyatt?

She just didn't have time for his slightly odd behavior right now. Were those tears in his eyes? Jeez, Wyatt acted like he hadn't seen her in _years_. Okay, so yeah, she was probably acting like a bitch again, but dammit, she wasn't even close to being done with her first shift, and the bar was slammed, and he's hanging onto her for dear life. Pacifying him with a promise to meet him at his place, Jessica was relieved when he finally left, still looking at her the strangest expression on his face.

When she begged off the second half of the double shift ( _female problems–worked every time_ ), Jessica was less than impressed with her husband's new home. She thought rather uneasily that maybe she shouldn't have paid the attorney out of their joint account, because this place was pretty shady. All thoughts of her surroundings fell by the wayside as the weird vibe she'd gotten from Wyatt at the bar was growing stronger by the minute, and it made her nervous.

A sickening thought occurred to her as she stared at Wyatt. Had he been injured during his last mission? Taken a hit to the head? He seemed to be suffering from memory loss or something, judging by the perplexed expression he wore. Well, this was really starting to creep her out, so pulling the brown envelope from her bag and handing it to him, she tried to explain.

"Look, this isn't how I wanted to do this, but it's only fair I do it in person, so..." and yeah, maybe her heart softened just a little at his obvious shock and devastation, but it was too late now. She was tired of the whole mess and just wanted it to be over. After waiting another minute or two with no response whatsoever from him but a blank stare, Jessica shrugged in resignation and said, "Goodbye, Wyatt," and got as far as the door when without warning, he grabbed her wrist firmly.

"No, wait, Jess, please, I can explain," he pleaded, and God help her, she could never hold out long when he focused those sincere blue eyes on her. Sighing inwardly, she turned and dropped down on the threadbare bedspread, trying hard not to think about nasty it probably was. While she could charitably give her husband a few points for the effort, nothing Wyatt stammered through during the next five minutes was even remotely close to being a decent explanation.

Standing abruptly, she started for the door once more when he suddenly put himself in front of it. Great. Now Jessica was fairly tall, only a couple inches shorter than Wyatt's 5'10", but she knew full well from experience he was solid muscle, and no way in hell could she budge him. "Wyatt, please, I need go get back to work...we're short-handed at the bar..." Placing his warm hands on her upper arms, Wyatt gazed into her eyes with a fierce determination that frankly surprised her. After so many years of his indifference, Jessica had to admit, right now he seemed more like the man she married, so like an idiot, she let down her guard for just a minute.

God, that had been a stupendously dumb move, because within the hour, her failure to leave him at the motel with the divorce papers and go back to work had turned into, of all things, being stuck in some seriously old, like Korean War old, depressing underground bunker in the middle of nowhere with her almost ex-husband and six complete strangers. Nice going, Jessica.

Desperate for her to understand what had been going on with him lately, Wyatt had impulsively brought her here to this place, and from the way he got his ass handed to him by his definitely unamused superior, an older, dark-haired woman, Jessica's presence here was a very bad idea. And that was before an honest-to-God time machine roared into the bunker in front of her very eyes.

Now, after three of the craziest, most confusing days she'd ever experienced, Jessica was beginning to once again settle into a new situation ( _man, this shit was getting old, though_ ). The most mind-blowing fact she had to adjust to, naturally, was that time travel was _real_ –made possible with the invention of a time machine (fondly called the 'lifeboat') by _the_ Connor Mason himself. She actually was a little awed to meet the older black man with the neat British accent, and he seemed to appreciate that, treating her very politely.

Next stop on the "Blowing Jessica's Mind Tour 2018" was the astonishing realization that Wyatt and some of his new teammates had actually been traveling back and forth through time for over a year. She had no idea that this had been the super secret mission that kept him away for so long, although when he explained that he and the others had been forced to go into hiding around two months ago because of some crazy, evil organization trying to change history, Jessica realized that had been around the time she stopped hearing from him, so that had checked.

Wyatt seemed very attached to his new team, which didn't surprise her at all, considering his whole military mind set and the extraordinary circumstances of the team's missions. The people she was now living with were all scary smart, every one of them. Just that morning, Jessica had gently teased her husband about there being no shortage of brain power in this place. He smiled wistfully, and told her that he was just the muscle, the guy who protected the smart ones when the team 'jumped' through time (as they called it). Wyatt was being so sweet, and actually paying more attention to her than he had in years. And when he begged her for one more chance, to forget about the divorce, it was tempting, but Jessica was not about to make any hasty decisions.

By the end of the first day, she was introduced to everyone. As someone who had worked in the service industry for years, Jessica had experience with seemingly every possible combination of personalities, and by the third day, she was starting to piece together the unspoken hierarchy of her new home. In addition to Wyatt's superior, an NSA Agent named Denise Christopher, who actually came and went at all hours, and Connor Mason, there was a young, dark-eyed woman named Jiya who Wyatt assured her was brilliant with computers. The black man who actually piloted the lifeboat was named Rufus, and was Jiya's boyfriend, and then there was a tall, dark-haired man named Garcia. Noting Wyatt's barely reined-in contempt for the older man, Jessica made herself a mental note to ask him about that later.

And then there was Lucy, Wyatt's lone female teammate, who apparently served as historian on their missions. A petite brunette around her own age, Jessica hadn't had much contact with her yet because she had been injured during their last mission. A knife wound, Wyatt said, with a worried look on his face. Typical Wyatt, always concerned about his teammates. Speaking of Lucy and Rufus, she was quite impressed to find out they were actually Doctors in the fields of History and Physics, respectively. Wow.

"Lucy and Rufus are two of the most intelligent people I've ever worked with," Wyatt had rather proudly informed her. When Jessica had expressed admiration for Lucy's obvious bravery, however, she thought Wyatt sounded rather odd before merely nodding and admitting that Lucy had saved _him_ on more than one occasion.

While no one had been anything but polite, she could tell the others were upset to one degree or another with Wyatt for bringing her here. The second day, Jiya sat with her over coffee and confided that part of their resentment towards Wyatt was that she and Rufus both had family on the outside who thought they were dead, killed in a huge explosion at Mason Industries. Jessica instantly felt terrible and tried to apologize for his reckless behavior, but the other woman just shrugged and said, "Well, that's just Wyatt. We're all used to it by now, especially Lucy."

Now she was really intrigued. What had Jiya meant by her offhand remark? When Lucy unexpectedly left the infirmary to join them for supper on the third day, it was all Jessica could do not to stare at her. Despite being very pale and clearly still in some pain, she really was very pretty, all big dark eyes and wavy hair. Somewhat preoccupied at first, it took Jessica a few minutes to pick up on the strained atmosphere around the table.

While Connor barely made eye contact with anyone, Rufus and Jiya kept glancing back and forth between Lucy and Wyatt, and she would have sworn she saw something like sympathy in Jiya's eyes once or twice when she looked at Jessica. Garcia also kept an eye on Lucy, and she wondered if they were involved. Even more suspicious was the fact that Wyatt and Lucy completely avoided making eye contact at all. Really odd behavior for teammates who had been through so much together over the past year, she thought.

She noticed that Lucy only pushed the food around her plate, barely eating at all, and was the first one up from the table. Jessica was startled when Wyatt started to get to his feet also, only to sit back down hastily when Lucy finally looked at him and frowned slightly. Well, damn, that was certainly impressive. Without a single word, something had been communicated between the two of them, because this woman had made her husband tuck his tail under like a puppy.

An uneasy feeling suddenly came over Jessica. She couldn't put her finger on it, but looking around the table, she could tell something was off, like the others knew a secret she didn't. What had she let Wyatt drag her into? Her instincts were urging her to ask him, but he could be maddeningly close-mouthed when push came to shove, and she doubted, in spite of his assurances to the contrary, that the Wyatt Logan she knew, had (and maybe still) loved, and was married to for the past ten years, could have changed that much.

No, whatever was going on here, someone would mess up eventually and let it slip, so for now Jessica would just bide her time, and maybe keep a close eye on her husband and his teammate, at least until it was safe for her to leave. God, she hoped it would be soon, because her weird new reality had suddenly gotten a lot stranger, and if she were a betting woman, Jessica would wager every cent in her new bank account it had to do with Wyatt and Lucy.

 _A/N: First of all, just a heads up that I wrote and posted this before ep 5 aired, before it was canon that Wyatt and Jessica were high school sweethearts (although, I did get his back story right in "First Steps," so go Gracie!). Oops! Must be an AU now :) I guess this is my take on Jessica Logan. Still not happy about the triangle the show has forced on us, but hey, I actually feel kind of bad for Jessica, especially when she figures out (and she will) how Wyatt feels about Lucy. I wrote this pretty quickly, so please excuse any mistakes you may find. Thanks for all the support from everyone here in the Timeless fandom. So proud to be a part of it :)_


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